The Roads Never Lead Us
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: An episode tag for Sunday.


**AN: Big spoilers for the episode Sunday which has not aired in the US yet, so please consider that. **

**The Roads Never Lead Us**

**by kodiak bear**

Returning to Earth was always an event.

It was important and maybe sometimes big – it usually meant _something_ when we walked through that 'gate.

We didn't just go home to pick up a pizza…well, okay, Sheppard did, but that was only because we were testing the Intergalactic Bridge, and just the one time. Mostly, we went back for things like getting the shit kicked out of us, and losing the city to a long lost ship of Ancients.

_We_ didn't go back carrying the body of a best friend. Not that there weren't bodies – there were, and God knows, too many, but not us…not me, Sheppard, Ronon and Radek, Lorne and that other doctor who wasn't Carson.

It wasn't ever supposed to be like that.

It wasn't like I hadn't had nightmares. I'd dreamed similar scenarios before. The only difference was who -- mostly it was me, or Sheppard, or Elizabeth, Katie, Radek…but Carson? It'd never been Carson, and maybe that's why I was having a hard time believing this was real. That it was actually happening, and that this wasn't just another bad dream.

The bar was full of people. I'm sure, judging from the looks of several, there were more than enough with plenty of reasons to drink, but I was just arrogant and selfish enough to feel that none of them were as good as mine.

We'd been to Scotland. I'd suffered through telling Carson's mother that her son was finally home…for good.

When she'd opened the door and saw us standing there, she'd been pleasant and open, welcoming.

"_Well, who are you, now? Not from these parts – come in, come in, before the rain soaks you through and you catch your death of a…"_

She'd stammered to a stop, because by then, I was almost crying.

I didn't _do_ crying, not even when I was dying. Carson had saved my life, then, too. Like he'd saved just about everyone that had attended his memorial before we left Atlantis. Sheppard's and Ronon's, Teyla and Elizabeth…God, he'd saved us all, and sometimes repeatedly.

But maybe it was because standing on the doorstep, seeing the happiness on her face, and knowing that I was going to take it all away and change her life in a matter of minutes…maybe it was just too much after all I'd been through since I'd felt and heard the explosion, sitting on the stool, eating a lunch with Katie that I shouldn't have been having in the first place.

If I hadn't been such a selfish bastard.

"Another round boys?"

I looked up from my beer, saw Sheppard look across the booth at me, and then Ronon and Lorne and Radek. He nodded to the woman and turned his attention back to his mug.

"Maybe… maybe it was naïve to think it'd never happen --" I said.

Radek pursed his lips and looked sad and contemplative.

That's how it'd been, and it was four days later.

"Not naïve, Doc, just…hopeful." Lorne had his mug clenched in two hands, neither one holding on tight. They were just there, wrapped around the glass, feeling the cold because there wasn't anything else to do.

The other pall bearer, Cole – she was at the SGC, dealing with the paperwork to find another doctor to take Carson's place. I didn't even want to think about it. We were heading back tomorrow morning, bright and early. With or without a replacement – probably without. The gears of the machine only turned so fast.

Strange -- in some ways, I didn't even want to go.

I still needed to see Jeannie. I'd promised I'd look her up whenever I made it back next, but I hadn't called her yet. I didn't want to tell her, "Oh, by the way, I'm here because Carson's dead. How've you been?"

"This sucks," Sheppard said. He stared away from us, drank some more.

There was a song playing that I didn't recognize. Not a surprise. We'd been gone for almost three years now – you tend to get out of touch when you live in another galaxy. It was slow, sad and just hit in all the wrong places tonight.

Enough.

Just…enough. I slid out from the booth and tossed a few dollars on the scarred table. "I'm catching a cab to my sister's. I can't…I can't do this right now." I left without looking back. I didn't want to see my shattered look reflected to me in the others anymore.

It was enough to see mine every morning in the mirror since it'd happened.

"Rodney – hey, Rodney, wait up!"

"Go away, Sheppard."

It was raining. Fantastic. At least it fit. Maybe it was a law that it always rained when someone died. No, that was stupid. It'd rain every day of every year, because death wasn't exactly a rarity on Earth, either. I'm normally not this idiotic – it's just, losing someone close, it does that, you know?

The streets were bustling with cars and people; it was early evening in Colorado Springs, and this was the main strip where the base idiots hung around.

He caught up to me, and waited while I waved down a cab. I spared him an irritated glance -- one that he returned with a benign look. I was still wearing the same clothes I'd left Atlantis in, and now they were rumpled, and probably smelling less than fresh. I must've looked respectable enough, because a cab pulled up. I opened the door and faced Sheppard, blocking the door with my body.

"I want to be alone."

He tucked his hands into his black overcoat pockets – he'd had to change since he wasn't supposed to wear his blues on airlines with all the crap going down. "Rodney…"

I smiled painfully. "If I'd gone fishing with him, he'd still be alive today. It doesn't matter right now that more people would've probably died. He would be alive." And when you're wallowing in the pain and grief of losing a friend, it wasn't ever about the bigger picture. It was about wanting to go back and change your actions -- more than you ever wanted to do anything before.

To do it differently. To make sure it didn't happen like it had. Anything but that. It was unreasonable, illogical, completely unscientific, but I'd never claimed to be Spock.

"I turned him down, too." Sheppard sucked in a tired breath and looked over my head. He was doing that a lot lately. "He came by, asked me and Ronon to join you guys. You're not the only one, McKay. I could've gone with the containment team, could've waited and maybe --"

"Hey – you gonna get in here or not? I'm trying to make money, not enjoy the view." The cabby was middle-aged, conservative hair cut, and a lined, bitter face that screamed he knew it all.

"Yes, yes, just a minute."

"In or out?" the man clarified with an edge.

I patted my pockets, fumbling for my wallet until I found it. I pulled out a fifty and tossed it to him, irritated. "Will that shut you up?"

He nodded, holding it up to the light, as if to see if it was fake, before saying, "Yeah…take your time."

"Come back inside, Rodney. We'll go see your sister together."

See, that was the problem I was having. Sheppard, and the others, they were here, now, in the present. But I wasn't. I was stuck in the past and I just couldn't get over it. Not yet. "I keep thinking if I'd just looked into what the device did, if I'd made sure it was nothing, if we'd kept them under observation – but we didn't have any reason to think it was anything…" I drifted and stared at a dirty puddle in the gutter where a cigarette wrapper drooped, discarded and disintegrating. Who was I kidding? It was Atlantis, and there was every reason to think a device would've turned humans into walking bombs.

I just hadn't thought about it until it was too late, and nothing was ever going to change that.

"Look, I'd rather be alone, if you don't mind."

"What if I do?" Sheppard stuck his chin out stubbornly. "What if I think it's a bad idea?"

"He knew I cared, right?" I asked, suddenly needing to know.

"Yeah…" Sheppard's voice grew soft and husky. "He knew."

"That's good. Because I would hate to think he'd died not knowing --" my voice broke, and I think my hand trembled against the cold metal of the taxi's door.

Somewhere between that moment and the next, Sheppard awkwardly grabbed me and held on. I don't know who was more surprised and then I realized he was trembling just a little bit, too. He pulled back, and nodded at the taxi, and took another step away. "Tell Jeannie I said hi."

"I will."

He swallowed. "Tomorrow morning, McKay. Don't be late."

"I won't."

Then he was gone, melting back into the bar, and all that was in front of me was one more painful confrontation with someone that had no idea what kind of loss we'd suffered.

OoO

Her house was dark.

I didn't have a coat, and the cabbie looked shrewdly at me like he had a spark of humanity lurking in his hardened heart, but what the hell do I know, seeing how I'm probably the last one who should talk about humanity and caring.

He leaned over the seat, his hand running along the seam, fingers drumming restlessly. "You want me to wait?"

I shook my head numbly and stumbled out the door.

The doorbell was loud. I was wet and cold, and when she opened the door, looking exactly like I remembered, I shivered and chattered. "Hi, Jeannie."

"Mer!"

She looked alarmed and pleased, before pulling me inside where the glitter in her eyes and the happiness on her lips soon twisted into a worried frown. "You're soaked – what are you doing here? What's wrong?" She let go of my arm, her frown turning anxious; dread visited. "Is it…is it John? Teyla?" she asked quietly.

Did I ever say my sister was smart? Smarter than me…maybe.

"Carson, Jeannie…it was Carson."

I wasn't even sure I'd said it till she reacted. A look of sad shock took over and she placed her hand over her mouth.

"No…oh, God – Mer…"

Then she was pulling me the rest of the way inside, to the living room, and I was surprised to see no one around. No Madison, no whatever her husband's name was. She steered me to the couch and somehow a blanket draped my shoulders and a drink was in my hand.

Coffee.

For the first time in a long time, I really didn't want it.

"How?" she asked, sitting down next to me. "When?"

I set the coffee on the table and pulled the blanket tight around my shoulders. I hadn't been this cold since I'd been trapped in the Jumper filling to capacity with sea water. "Four days ago…an explosion." I somehow met her look, and the compassion made me hurt all over again. This was my _sister_. The one person that had seen me at my worst. Seen me throw outraged tantrums – okay, maybe everyone on Atlantis had seen that, but she'd also seen me cry. She'd seen me lose it over dead pets and being teased and everything awful that a kid has to go through – and even if it'd been far too long ago to be much more than a vague memory, it still was what it was.

Her eyes were vaguely glossy, her face drawn. She'd only known him for such a short time, but I knew she cared…a little. She hadn't spent enough time with him to care more. But she knew what he meant to me, to those of us she'd met. He was…was one of the closest friends I'd ever had. It'd taken something like Atlantis, and the constant threat of death, to make me wake up and realize there was more to life than professional accolades and technology.

Not that I had gone through the first thirty something years of my life without any shred of a clue, it was just…I had always made the wrong steps, and said the wrong thing, and just like my estrangement from Jeannie, none of it was intended, it just happened.

Like when you wake up one morning, and you roll over and see that all you've got to show for your life is an apartment, a job, and a cat. Not that the cat wasn't nice, it just wasn't…it wasn't _more_. And I wasn't even living in my apartment most of the year, anyway.

So, going to Atlantis -- I had given up my cat, but I'd stumbled into the _more_, and to tell you the truth, in a lot of ways, I was still figuring out just what that was. For all my genius, I could miss a lot. So why was it a surprise that I'd failed?

When it'd mattered, I had made the wrong choice, and now he was gone.

"He shouldn't have died," I whispered. "It was stupid. An accident. It never should've happened."

If Carson hadn't done what he'd done – Watson would be dead. Probably a lot of others.

And I just didn't care.

A nicer person would think of it as proof of what a wonderful person Carson had been, but that wasn't me. I was petty, and selfish, and hadn't we just been through this weeks ago?

I wondered if I could get Watson transferred to a department where I wouldn't have to see him, because seeing him… It'd be a constant reminder of how Carson had died, and right now, I couldn't bring myself to forgive _me_, let alone Watson – even if his only crime was going into the lab with Houston and turning on a device they should've never touched.

Jeannie inched nearer, and reached a tentative hand for my shoulder. There'd been a time when it wouldn't have been tentative. "Mer --" she leaned into my space, until I couldn't avoid her look. "Accidental deaths are senseless and stupid. It doesn't matter how it happens, it just does, and unless you pulled the trigger or caused the explosion through negligence, it wasn't your fault." She peered even harder at me. "You didn't cause the explosion, did you?"

"Where's your husband? And that little…kid --"

"Spending the weekend with Grandma. So I could get some work done." Jeannie pulled away, a ghost of a smile mixing with the weight of Carson's death. She stood and gathered the untouched coffee before heading for the kitchen. "The _kid_ would be your niece, Mer, it doesn't hurt to say it. And by the way, you didn't answer me." There was clinking as she dumped the contents of the cup into the sink and ran water to rinse away the stain.

I was slouched against the back of the sofa, my hands tucked between my legs, and I was cold. "I just… can I sleep here?" The dishes kept clinking then the water cut off and she was walking back in. I lifted a hand and waved a little at her belly. "You've got a…a wet spot or something…"

She looked down and grimaced before wiping her wet hands at the darkened spot on her pale yellow shirt, just making it worse. She gave up and shrugged. She folded her arms, covering it, and looked at me, compassion and sympathy radiating from her like it always had done when we were little kids, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I felt my shoulders shake before she was there, and then she pulled me against her.

I choked, "Why didn't I just go fishing?" and felt more lost than maybe I ever had before.

OoO

After Rodney left, I threaded through the crowd and dropped into the booth, feeling more tired than I had a right to be. Jet lag, that was it. All the traveling was to blame for why I felt suspended in slow motion.

My beer was still there; the others looked curiously at me.

"Colonel?" Lorne asked.

I made a short reassuring nod. "Going to see his sister." I wrapped a hand around the handle of the mug and lifted it, drinking half of what was left in one swallow.

"His sister is best," Radek muttered. "She will know what Rodney needs."

Yeah. Not like me, I figured. I'd told Teyla it just hadn't hit me yet, and I guess I was still there. I knew I should be sad, full of regret and something…but it wasn't grief that was growing. It was anger.

I was getting pissed. And that was probably the last thing Rodney needed right now.

I'd never had a chance to do my job. I hadn't been able to stop people from dying, or been able to protect Carson and my men that I'd sent out there to contain the explosive tissue. They'd died, all of 'em. I drank some more and ignored the upbeat music at odds with my gut. They'd been reduced to ashes – and Carson – I had no idea how much of him had been left, but the coffin had felt sickeningly light.

"He was one of the best men I think I have ever known." Radek pulled his eyes off a particularly deep gouge in the wood. "He put up with Rodney, after all."

Ronon chuckled. "Don't know how he kept from killing him some times."

"No kidding," I added. "Hey, Radek – you remember that time with the personal shield, right after Carson gave him the ATA therapy?"

"Oh, do I. Was ridiculous – mental components, and Rodney was convinced he was going to die. I think he haunted Carson for days after, wanting to make sure there weren't any lingering effects." Radek emphasized effects, dragging it out nice and slow, grinning impishly at the memory.

"I guess that was before my time," Lorne said.

"Me too." Ronon didn't look like he minded though. He drank enough to empty his mug and wiped his mouth with a backhanded, careless swipe. "I do remember the time Beckett blasted the wraith with the drones from the Jumper. I wasn't sure whether to hug him or kill him."

"Well, seeing how you were kind of losing --"

"I wasn't losing."

"Could've fooled me," I insisted nonchalantly.

I got a dirty look, before we lapsed again into silence that was maybe just a little bit lighter than before. The waitress arrived and we got another round.

I wasn't sure how much we drank, but I know we all got a little plowed…okay, _a lot_ plowed, because I was helped into the taxi by Ronon and somehow the seat was just there and I was in it, not really sure how my body managed to stay upright.

I was dizzy, and I think if it'd been any other reason for us to have gotten drunk, it would've made for embarrassing stories…but all we did was get quieter, and maybe more heartfelt in our agreements of how great a guy Carson was. I hoped I had left some of my anger behind in the empty beer mugs.

The checkpoints to get into the SGC were sobering.

Everyone knew who we were and why we were there. Bad news seemed to travel fast. The gate guard smiled tightly, and waved us in, asking a little uncertainly, "Uh, Colonel, do you need some help?" when Ronon and I walked into the wall instead of the elevator.

"No, we're fine, Sergeant."

Least, that's what I tried to say. Lorne stepped on my heel and I fell into the freight car, Radek tumbled in after me, and we just sat there, stunned by the fact that we were on the floor instead of standing.

"We're probably gonna regret this tomorrow," I said knowingly to Radek.

"I am regretting it now," he returned quickly with a groan.

I brought my knees up and kept my back against the wall as Lorne punched the button to take us to guest quarters. "Turtles," I said. When everyone looked at me I realized that none of them had been with us. It'd been me, Rodney, Carson and Elizabeth, going back to rescue O'Neill and that IOA guy…and Atlantis.

Always Atlantis.

I cleared my throat. "He had turtles…I wonder if he ever got someone to take care of 'em?"

"Wouldn't they be dead by now if he hadn't?"

I stared owlishly at Ronon.

He nodded, getting it. "Yeah, I'm sure the turtles are fine, Sheppard."

I snorted dismissively and slurred a look at Lorne and Radek. "I think he's just trying to make me feel better." God, my body felt disconnected and floaty, dizzy and detached – I'd had way too much to drink. And I hated it.

"Probably, Sir," Lorne agreed.

When the doors opened on the right floor, I was surprised to see Mitchell there, and Carter. Daniel and Teal'c.

"Colonel," Mitchell greeted evenly.

"Colonel," I returned, trying to look at both him and Carter, because no way was I going to repeat Colonel, Colonel and get into that stupid song and dance.

Teal'c hauled Radek off the floor with grace, Lorne waved off Daniel, and I got lucky enough to get Carter. Ronon scowled at Mitchell who raised his hands in surrender. "We're just here to get you where you belong," he explained.

"Preciate it," I slurred.

I had no idea why they were here to witness my humiliation, but I vowed for only the second time in my life not to drink anymore…_ever_. I'd only gotten drunk like this once before. When Mitch and Dex hadn't come home.

The hallway was rotating, and I felt sick.

Maybe I should've gone with Rodney. Jeannie probably wouldn't have let me drink that much. Crap.

I watched as everyone split off, and Mitchell waved to me as Carter practically dragged my sorry ass to my room. She dropped me mostly on the bed, and stood, looking worriedly at me. "Are you going to be okay, Colonel?"

I pushed myself up and onto the bed till I was lying flat and considered it.

If I hadn't been drunk, the yes would've been past my lips before I'd even thought about it.

She took my silence for what it was worth, and frowned.

"I know what it's like--" She seemed to be debating something before she grudgingly added, "It'll get better, I promise." Carter was tough. She was military, like me, but she'd seen a heck of a lot more than I had in her time on SG-1.

I knew something about Daniel dying. Ascending. Descending. And I rolled my head away from the bitter lump. "This is different. He didn't ascend. He isn't coming back."

"I wasn't talking about Daniel."

When I looked back at her, I saw a lot of sadness.

I should've just said I was fine, and convinced her to leave by passing out, but instead I didn't say anything, and I didn't close my eyes. We'd met more than a couple times now. She'd even been to Atlantis before. My first impression was that Carter was smart, she gave Rodney's attitude right back at him, so that was impressive…but I wasn't sure about who she really was underneath the surface. Hell, I wasn't even sure I wanted to know. She worked here, I worked there, and our paths rarely crossed.

SG-1 was damn near legendary. I know my team was setting it's own blazing course, but I couldn't help but think we were leaving a lot more damage in our wake, and getting by with a lot more luck than skill.

It didn't surprise me that they'd been lurking to help us. SGC was like that. You don't leave people behind. You don't let them suffer alone. That was good. That was me, kind of – except the suffer part. But I'd told Teyla that I wasn't really good at this kind of thing, and even drunk I could tell that Carter recognized that.

So, she sat down and started to tell me about a doctor that worked at the SGC – a doctor that had been her friend. Frasier. And how she'd died saving a life, just like Carson. Her voice was husky, awkward, and reluctant.

"So it's supposed to be better because it means something," I said, kind of angry. It was a bullshit line. It didn't feel better, it just made it hurt more, knowing that someone a lot more deserving than most wasn't around anymore.

She shook her head and stood. "No, Colonel. It's not better. But you get over it."

"I don't wanna get over it." I was sick of getting over it.

"Don't be a belligerent drunk," Carter scolded softly. "Get some sleep, and put this behind you. The wraith are still out there. The fight doesn't end just because you lost a friend – trust me, I know."

She left me feeling even worse.

"Thanks," I shouted at the closing door, not sure if it was sarcastic or heartfelt.

Then I had to make a staggered run for the bathroom.

OoO

They were coming back today.

Teyla was returning to duty in another week.

Life would go back to what it'd been: Missions, wraith, and more death.

I turned away from my desk, and stared through the window of my office. The alpha shift was on duty. The 'gate was silent. The entire city felt hushed, suppressed. And how couldn't it?

There were some people that believed in the supernatural…that life-changing events could imprint on walls and stones. I had to believe that if it were true, the events of last week would be imprinted forever, along with every other tragic and terrible death that the city had witnessed.

I'd also taken to wondering who would be next?

I had managed his eulogy without cracking. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing. Was I beginning to lose my ability to feel emotion like I should?

I should've cried, and I hadn't.

I couldn't.

For a moment, a wash of emotion ran through me, and I remembered the excitement and joy I'd felt before we'd left Earth. We'd all been so young, and so very naïve. It'd only been three years – but you can't measure days and months against loss, pain and suffering. They weren't equitable, and they never would be.

I'd depended on Carson for his strength and his kindness.

And now he was gone.

**The End **

**(cries)**


End file.
